


More Riddles Than Raindrops Outside

by Gaslight Dreamer (wyntirrose)



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014), Warehouse 13
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 04:49:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11006328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyntirrose/pseuds/Gaslight%20Dreamer
Summary: Like two sides of a coin, Jenkins and Mrs. Frederic represent opposite sides of the same whole, and every year they meet to go over the books.





	More Riddles Than Raindrops Outside

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little one shot that may lead to more fics as the muses strike. Honestly, it always struck me that Warehouse 13 and The Librarians belonged in the same universe.

The coffee shop was small but cozy, and somehow managed to offer each of its customers a sense of seclusion and privacy. Jazz and blues from the 1920s played over the sound system and each of the tables was set with mismatched tea services that all seemed to date back to the same time period as the music. It was the perfect little cafe for Portland or Austin. Too bad it was stuck here in the backwater end of the South Dakota badlands.

A door in the back opened and a tall, silver-haired man dressed in a grey three-piece suit stepped out of what should have been a storage room. Had anyone been watching the observer would have seen a brown and gold coloured room beyond the door, a room filled with tables and books. A room that looked exactly like a library. He closed the door behind him, selected a table and sat down to wait, pulling out a small leather bound book and taking a few notes in a tight but neat hand.

Jenkins knew the instant Mrs. Frederic appeared across from him, feeling her presence before he saw her in his peripheral vision.

"You're late," he said, never looking up from his notes.

"I am neither early nor am I late. I arrive exactly when I intend to," Irene Frederic replied, and there was a smile clear in her voice even though it never quite reached her lips or eyes. 

"You aren't a wizard, Irene," Jenkins replied. "Unless something has changed since last year?"

He finally looked up at the woman. She hadn't changed in all the years that he had known her. Which, admittedly, hadn’t been that long in the grand scheme of things. Only just shy of 120 years. A mere moment in his life, and yet, it felt like a pleasant eternity. She was still as lovely as ever, with her hair up in that near beehive of elaborate braids and her deep brown eyes observing everything both seen and unseen from behind her cat eye glasses. She was still young, at least when compared to Jenkins, but in those eyes he saw an ancient soul. Possibly even more ancient than his own.

"Many things have changed, as you well know, Gal," Irene said as she motioned to the waitress.

Without any verbal requests an afternoon tea service was delivered to the table, as if this was a routine. And maybe it was. After all, this meeting had happened every year for as long as any of the staff remembered. One minute the cafe was empty, and the next the man and the woman were sitting there in that same side table, ordering the same tea and cakes. No one ever remembered seeing them arrive and no one ever saw them leave. It was just accepted as one of the many oddities of living in Univille, South Dakota. And since they both probably worked for the IRS at that warehouse just outside of town, no one bothered to pry too deeply into their affairs.

"Yes," Jenkins replied. "Like your acquisition of the Statue of Hera. How is that working out for you?"

"Once Artie moved Zeus out, there were no problems at all. Why do you ask?" And it was clear that Mrs. Frederic was perfectly aware of the answer to that question.

"You know full well that both of those statues belong in the Library. Not the Warehouse. We have had an agreement for a very long time, Irene. Since the days of the Foundings, we have had an agreement. Magic stays with us while you keep the other Artifacts."

"And yet, you don't seem to have gotten around to returning the Ghost Lights. Or the Thread. Or the House of Refuge." Irene stirred her tea and stared at Jenkins pointedly.

"The Ghost Lights are not an Artifact, they have absorbed more than one theatre's energy, thus putting them into the realm of magic. And as for the House of Refuge, you know as well as I do that you cannot have a Mystery House and the Bed and Breakfast in the same space. The maelstrom created from that much energy in one area would be - well I'm not sure that even devastating would be an appropriate word. You simply don't have the space or the needed wards."

"And the Thread?" Irene prompted.

Jenkins sighed. "Yes, the Thread. Would you believe me if I said it had been destroyed?"

"Do you really need to ask that question?"

Jenkins shrugged as he broke open a scone. "It never hurts to ask."

"By all definition, the Thread is an artifact and belongs in the Warehouse, Gal. You know this as well as I do."

Jenkins looked at Mrs. Frederic for a long time before finally nodding. "Fine. But I want something in return."

"You can't have Zeus. He's happy where he is."

"No, not Zeus. Honestly I'm not quite prepared to have him in the same building as his lightning bolt. Not until he can prove he is able and willing to behave. No, I want the Lenape Cloak. You know as well as I do that it's magic. Well, more magic than artifact."

"It is a fine line, isn't it?"

"Like splitting hairs sometimes." Jenkins took a bite of the cake, chewing it thoughtfully before finally continuing. "I'm wondering if it isn't about time we combined efforts on some items. Perhaps a meeting between your staff and my Librarians is overdue. After all, it does seem that the hairs are becoming much finer these days."

"Librarians? Plural?" Irene asked, her eyebrows raising slightly.

Jenkins shrugged. "The Library wants what it wants and it has decided to add three new Librarians to cover the day to day while Flynn deals with other matters."

Irene smiled. "I look forward to meeting them. Perhaps you can arrange for a little vacation. The Bed and Breakfast has more than enough room for everyone." At the surprised look, she raised her hand. "The outside one. I’m not quite that cruel. Not yet at any rate."


End file.
